Tied Up

Kari wants her hands tied to the bedpost tonight. Nothing fancy, just rope that bites when she pulls. Johnny walks in slow like he’s got all night and maybe he does. His palms slide over her breasts first, thumbs rolling across her nipples until they stiffen against his skin. Then lower, knuckles brushing the damp crotch of her panties before he drags the fabric aside and sinks two fingers straight in. She bites his thumb when he slides them into her mouth and tastes herself on him. When his hand cups the curve of her ass, he squeezes hard enough to leave prints. Panties gone now, he climbs on, pushes her thighs wide with his knees and drives his cock home in one smooth thrust. She strains against the rope, hips jerking, but the knots hold. Every stroke pins her deeper, hips rolling so the base of his shaft grinds her clit on each downstroke. Her moans hit the ceiling, sharp little sounds she can’t swallow. She doesn’t want free. She wants him to stay exactly where he is, buried, owning every inch, filling her until the rope marks turn dark on her wrists and the mattress stops creaking.